


a chance to make it good somehow

by Sholio



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Monster Hunters, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 00:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13512867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/pseuds/Sholio
Summary: Nancy and Jonathan rescue Steve from malevolent vines, aka another Saturday night in Hawkins.





	a chance to make it good somehow

**Author's Note:**

> Combining two Stoncy Tumblr prompts: "lost in the woods" and "asphyxiation". Title is from "Thunder Road" by Springsteen.

It was no time to get separated, but in the confusion of stumbling upon a section of woods that were absolutely _infested_ with vines, they got separated anyway. These were very active vines, not like the slower-moving ones that, according to Steve and Chief Hopper, infested the tunnels under the pumpkin fields. 

And now here she was in the woods ... alone.

Nancy rubbed at a scratch on the back of her hand and shone her flashlight around. A quick whipping movement, like a snake in the grass, made her jump. She pointed her flashlight that way, just in time to see a vine withdrawing among the trees.

They were so damn _fast._ She held her machete, dripping plant goo, in a death grip. They'd need to come back with Chief Hopper and flamethrower equipment, but right now she just wanted to find the boys and get out of the woods.

"Steve?" she called into the dark. "Jonathan?"

She forced herself to stand still, slowing her harsh breathing, and simply listened. What she mainly heard was dripping water -- it wasn't raining now, but it had rained heavily that evening, and every leaf and branch in the entire forest was dripping steadily.

And then ... a distant voice calling her name.

She stumbled that way, shouting back, and a few moments later, she and Jonathan half-fell into each other's arms. He was scratched and winded, too, but otherwise unharmed.

"Okay, now we just have to find Steve." It was easier to feel confident with at least one of the boys at her side.

"I think the vines got him." In the beam of her flashlight Jonathan was scratched, wild-eyed, sap-splattered, and muddy; Nancy wondered if she looked that bad. "I was trying to help him hack them off, but things got crazy, and then I couldn't find him."

"He's got to be around here somewhere." She shone her flashlight around, shuddering at the lumpy shapes of vine-wrapped trees. Still, she refused to consider worst-case scenarios. As horrifying as the vines were, and as unpleasant as it was when their wriggling length wrapped around an arm or a leg, they couldn't really _do_ a whole lot -- they didn't seem to be poisonous or have teeth.

_Unless they're dragging him toward something that _does_ have teeth ... okay, don't think about that._

"Steve!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. 

"Hey." Jonathan snapped off his flashlight, reached out and turned off hers.

"What --" she gasped. Darkness rushed in around her like a tidal wave, nearly absolute on this cloudy, moonless night. Suddenly every rustle seemed ominous. Anything could be sneaking up on them. "Jonathan --"

"Over there. Do you see a light?"

She wasn't entirely sure at first, but as they picked their way through the vine-infested woods toward it by the light of one flashlight, hacking with Nancy's machete at any vines that quested in for a taste, she began to glimpse it more clearly. And finally they reached it: a flashlight on the ground, its beam illuminating a narrow swath of the dark woods.

"He's got to be around here somewhere," Jonathan said helplessly, shining his light around. There were vines everywhere, turning the trees and bushes into an indistinguishable, lumpy mass. "Steve!"

"There," Nancy breathed, and stumbled forward, kicking away a questing vine. She'd glimpsed a flash of color in the flashlight's beam, the denim of a pair of jeans, standing out against the dull gray-green of the vines.

Steve was completely covered in vines. Nancy and Jonathan sliced with the machete, pulled and tore with their bare hands, sap and sweat slicking their skin. Nancy was cursing, calling Steve every insult she knew, because he wasn't helping them, wasn't moving at all -- and she hadn't really thought, until now, that there was _one_ way the vines could kill you for sure.

They could smother you.

Finally, sticky and covered with sap, they dragged Steve out of the mass of vines and all three of them tumbled to the forest floor.

"Steve," Nancy said, pulling his head into her lap. She slapped at his face. Jonathan crouched beside her, holding the flashlight. In its glare, Steve looked gray, at least what was visible of his skin under the patches of sap and mottled bruises. His face was slack, eyes showing slits of white.

"I don't think he's breathing," Jonathan said hoarsely. "Do you know CPR?"

"No!" she said helplessly. "You?"

"I ... I can try."

Another thing they should have had Hopper to teach them, she thought bleakly, as Jonathan lay down the flashlight and knelt beside Steve. He laid his shaking hands on Steve's chest, one over the other, probably going off what he'd seen on TV.

He gave Steve's chest few a hard, clumsy downward shoves, and as he pulled his arms back for another go -- whether it was related or just a coincidence -- Steve jerked in Nancy's arms and suddenly started coughing.

"Steve?" she said, a little wildly. 

Jonathan just sort of ... fell forward, wrapped one arm around Steve and the other around her waist, his head dropping down beside Steve's in her lap. They clung together in a squishy sap-covered tangle for a moment or two.

Then Steve choked out weakly, "I hate this town."

A hysterical laugh escaped Nancy, and Jonathan was laughing too, making no sound, his shoulders shaking. Jonathan turned his head to the side and kissed Steve's cheek before struggling to his knees, his hand trailing across Nancy's back to her shoulder. "Can you get up?" he asked.

Steve could, with help; his legs were wobbly and he ended up leaning on both of them. Nancy wasn't feeling as steady as she liked, but she took his weight as best she could, while Jonathan gathered up the machete and flashlights, and covered their retreat.

"So we're coming back here with the Chief and burning all of this, right?" Steve said hoarsely as they wobbled toward the road in an awkward three-legged race.

"With extreme prejudice," Nancy said, and Jonathan moved in to brush Steve's shoulder with his own.


End file.
